


Sunshine

by twinkiesnail



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Coping, Death, F/M, Heartbreak, Severe Burns, i dont know what else to put here, i love ominous titles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 17:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14982227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinkiesnail/pseuds/twinkiesnail
Summary: Christine is Jake's sunshine.





	Sunshine

"You are my sunshine."  
Jake's raspy voice somehow made it through his oxygen mask, the fluorescent lights of the hospital room highlighting the tear streaks on the cheeks of the girl sitting next to him. Christine had pulled up a chair, close enough to hold his bandaged hand as she shook with sobs.  
Jake wanted her to stop.  
Not for his sake. Even though he wanted her to speak to him, because to hear her angelic voice fill the air with good wishes and optimistic phrases would honestly be the best thing he'd want to hear while passing. Not even the sounds of his parents' voices could beat her - he'd grown to love Christine so much that their condescending light seemed dim in his eyes.  
"My only sunshine," he whispered, only to see her rattle with sobs once again, holding his burned hand as gently as she could with her little hands - oh, how he loved those hands. The way they would rest on his cheek when she kissed him, the way they would squeeze his while they were walking.  
Even if he did survive, he doubted he'd be able to feel her hand on his for a while, anyway. The doctors told him it would take months for the burns to heal, if he lived, and the nerve damage was beyond irreversible.  
"You make me happy, when skies are grey."  
His words weren't helping, he could tell. But they gave a true meaning. He had been through so much shit - whether it be the loneliness of his home, the crushing responsibilities of schoolwork on his back. But she, somehow, had seen through his outstanding efforts to hide all his insecurities. Even then, she hadn't left him for it like he feared she would - in fact, she helped him. She hugged him when he needed a hug most, something that most of his former partners would never do.  
Christine was special, he could tell.  
He wished he could bathe in her specialness - her rays of happiness, her golden shine - for longer. But for now, her light had grown dim.  
"You'll never know, dear, how much I love you."  
Ah, he could feel it – he'd never experienced dying before, obviously, but an aching feeling in his stomach and a hollowness in his chest told him that it was coming. It was slowly creeping onto his soul, cutting the thread tying his consciousness to his body. It felt... refreshing. He'd wanted to do this before, to feel the coolness of the hands of death on his body, on his wrists, on his neck. Jake had sunk so low to do that at a few points in his life.  
But right when he felt as if he'd never feel that way again, fate just decided to grant him his old wishes.  
He was too young to die. Only seventeen, laying on a hospital gurney, unable to stare at anything else but the ceiling and feel nothing else but the searing pain coursing all throughout his body, and to hear nothing else but the sound of the hospital monitor, his girlfriend's cries, and his own voice singing to her.  
Oh, Christine. Christine. Christine, the dorky theatre kid he'd first set eyes on in his English class in seventh grade, who he'd see at dismissal, bobbing her head to showtunes and practicing her lines for the play and thinking she was pretty for a second, only to brush her aside as he set his sights on other girls. Girls who were physically appealing, at least then. He regretted his choices in that moment, covered in bandages and sore with the feelings of his wounds and his despair. How he wished he could have made her swoon sooner, to hold her in his arms sooner so that she would have a greater idea of his absolute adoration for her. It could have been infatuation, or maybe even just lust and desperation for someone to love after years of not getting it as a child, but he didn't care - he would stick with his idea of love.  
That fluttering sensation in his chest every time she smiled that him, the way he would go weak in the knees when she kissed his cheek, or the way he would stutter when she complimented him in the mornings or congratulated him after a football game. How he'd lay in bed, satisfied that his reality was finally better than his daydreams.  
It was a shame that he couldn't ever feel like that again.  
Oh. Oh, there it was. He felt his consciousness fading away, the tempo of the monitor's beeping slowing down, his recognition of Christine – his favorite, his love, his one and only – diminishing, despite her frantic cries.  
His last memories were a broken "Please don't go" and the sound of nurses hurriedly shuffling into the room.

Christine sat on a chair outside, after being escorted by a nurse outside of the room as they tended to Jake.  
The man next to her kept a hopeful smile on her face, but even so, the normally optimistic girl knew what was happening.  
He was gone.  
Passed on.  
Dead.  
It felt so surreal to her, to know that a constant presence in her life had just... disappeared. That his existence just, well, stopped existing. It was a mundane feeling - just an emptiness in her stomach and a flatness in her heart - but she couldn't get rid of it.  
Something felt incomplete, something felt missing.  
But suddenly, she knew.  
Looking up at the window to Jake's hospital room, the one covered with closed blinds and aching with hurried voices, with glazed vision, she could feel her lips forming the words she knew would complete the sequence. The ones that she knew would fill in the plot hole, the ones that would bring the story full-circle.  
'Please don't take my sunshine away.'


End file.
